


the distance to you

by lilithiumwords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Anxiety Attack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 15:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18317906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor have been apart for too long; but then they reunite.





	the distance to you

**Author's Note:**

> This is my piece for Shall We Read Issue #3, for which our theme was _space_. I chose to think of space as the distance between two people and how they would seek to close that distance. Thank you for letting me be a part of this project!

_"I have to go to Paris. I'm so sorry, Yuuri. I can call Yakov --"_

_"He won't make it here in time. It's okay, Viktor. I'll be okay."_

_"Are you sure? I can call them and cancel it."_

_"No, you should go. This is the last time you have to work with them, right? The timing is bad, but we can deal with it."_

_"Okay... okay. I will be a phone call away if you need me. Please call me for anything. **Anything** , Yuuri."_

_"I will."_

~*~

A figure sits in the corner of a large, darkened hotel room, pressed into a small ball. His Team Japan jacket and his free skate outfit have been left on the bed, just barely laid neat, while on the floor in front of him, a gold medal gleams in the light from the window. Quiet crying can be heard as he hides behind his knees, hands clenched into his skin, leaving indents.

On the floor by his foot, Yuuri's phone lights up, which draws his attention from his own misery. He drops his hand and slides his finger across the screen, opening the message he just received.

 **From:** Viktor  
**Message:** _I'll be home tomorrow night. Have a safe flight, sweetheart. ILU_

Yuuri breathes out over a sob, then wipes off his face and leans back into the wall, setting the phone against his knees. If he can see Viktor soon, he can handle this. He can.

He _can't._ He isn't strong enough -- he never was, not when it came to being apart from Viktor. He barely handled it whenever Viktor left for business, and he certainly didn't handle it well this time, either. It should be unhealthy, being so reliant on somebody, but Yuuri has never claimed that his feelings for Viktor were normal.

He left home for another long competition, this time flying to Brazil for Four Continents. Viktor, to the dismay of both of them, could not join him for the whole weekend. He had to fly to France for a business trip on Friday, leaving Yuuri alone in São Paulo before his free skate, despite doing everything in his power to get out of it. Suffering through the free skate without Viktor reminded Yuuri of Rostelcom, but he persevered for Viktor's sake.

His gold medal proved that his efforts were worth it, despite breaking down afterwards. At least, everyone else would think that. Yuuri doesn't even care about the medal anymore. He just wants Viktor.

He should be stronger by now. Why is he like this? Viktor doesn't deserve a failure like him. Even if he skated well, Yuuri still failed himself, and he failed Viktor. How can he look Viktor in the eye ever again?

Yuuri's phone lights up again, dragging him out of his dismal thoughts. He checks the screen anxiously, his heart immediately easing when he sees who sent the message.

 **From:** Viktor  
**Message:** _You better go to sleep at a proper time tonight. Don't worry about anything. Just think of me, and imagine seeing me tomorrow. I can't wait to see you. Sleep well, my sleeping beauty. ILU_

Yuuri closes his eyes against the sudden burn of tears. How did Viktor know? How does Viktor always know?

He sends a simple _okay_ , then sinks back against the wall, bringing his hand to his lips and kissing the cold ring on his finger. Soon. He will see Viktor soon.

~*~

When the door opens with a faint click, a great well of relief fills Yuuri, releasing in a long sigh. He notices that the house is dark, which makes his heart sink a little; his coach has yet to come home. He ignores the sad pang in his heart at that thought and drags his suitcase inside.

Dinner is a quick plate of eggs and toast. His shower lasts five minutes. He barely bothers dressing. Hair still damp, Yuuri drops onto the bed with a low groan, closing his eyes as he fumbles for the lamp. He flicks off the light and all but melts into his pillow when darkness falls.

He wants Viktor. He _misses_ him. All throughout his flight home, he kept thinking of Viktor far away in Paris. He even calculated the distance. Nine thousand, three hundred ninety-six kilometers; five thousand, eight hundred thirty-eight miles. Too much space between them, and yet it had to be done. Viktor hated leaving him, but Yuuri understood.

Viktor was apologetic the whole time he was gone, constantly texting Yuuri and calling him to reassure him. Just hearing his voice was enough to keep Yuuri going.

His last text from Viktor was three hours ago, telling him he was boarding the plane. Yuuri halfheartedly debates reaching for the phone on the nightstand, resting next to his medal, but his bed is too soft and his mind is too tired. He briefly aches for Makkachin, who is with the dog sitter right now, and surrenders to the oblivion of slumber.

~*~

Yuuri wakes slowly at the sound of a door closing somewhere in the house. He drifts for a while, listening to footsteps downstairs and the clink of dishes. A muffled curse follows a dull thud. His lips twitch upwards at the familiar voice. The footsteps move closer, followed by the faint sound of a suitcase rolling along the floor. Each step closes a little more of the distance between them.

Someone steps into the room, and Yuuri's smile widens.

Viktor is home.

"Yuuri," Viktor murmurs, just before a hand slides through Yuuri's hair, fingers trailing behind his ear. Then Viktor sighs and lets him go, disappearing into the bathroom. The light clicks on, flooding the darkened bedroom, and Yuuri opens his eyes halfway to watch Viktor's figure as he undresses.

The shower turns on. The stream of water soothes Yuuri, enough that he dazes out for a little while. Viktor doesn't hum this time; he usually saves that for mornings. Yuuri imagines getting up and going to join him; he imagines Viktor stepping out naked, steam rising from his body. There is still too much space between them.

He opens his eyes again when he realizes the water has been turned off. Viktor stands in the doorway, slowly rubbing his hair with a thick towel, the rest of him nude. Yuuri traces the lines of his shoulders, his waist, his narrow hips. He aches to reach out to Viktor, to touch him and hold him again.

The thought galvanizes him into moving. He sits up, pushing his messy hair back to watch Viktor. The towel slides off Viktor's head, revealing tired blue eyes which light up as they land on Yuuri. They gaze at each other for a long moment, before Yuuri reaches out.

Viktor's face, lined with exhaustion and pangs of worry, softens with a smile. He crosses the room to the bed, sliding one knee onto the covers as he takes Yuuri's hand. Yuuri grasps his hand firmly and pulls him down, ignoring Viktor's exclamation as he sits up and moves to straddle Viktor's hips, staring at him in awe. In the warm light of the bathroom, Viktor's skin almost glows, droplets of water clinging to him, adding to his ethereal beauty. Yuuri licks his lips and sees an answering heat in Viktor's eyes.

"Wow. Did you miss me, Yuuri?" Viktor murmurs, running one hand up Yuuri's side. His fingers slip under Yuuri's shirt, teasing over his skin, but Yuuri catches his hands and puts them on his waist, leaning over him to cross more of the space between them.

"I always miss you, Viktor." Yuuri can't resist wiping a few of the water droplets across Viktor's chest, frowning a little to feel the edge of Viktor's rib. He hates it when Viktor doesn't take care of himself when Yuuri is gone.

Not that Yuuri is any better.

"Good," Viktor purrs, tilting his head up. By rights, they should both be too tired to do anything, yet all Yuuri wants is to lose himself in Viktor's love.

Their kiss is sweeter than honey, softer than Yuuri's pillow, more powerful than the pull of sleep. Kissing Viktor feels like coming home, like the great distance between them couldn't stop their hearts from being drawn back to each other like magnets. Yuuri groans as Viktor's tongue slips into his mouth, while Viktor's hands slip beneath his shirt.

After several heated moments, Yuuri pulls back, breathless, throwing his head back as Viktor kisses down his jaw to his neck.

"Viktor," he sighs, tightening his knees on either side of Viktor's hips. 

"What shall I do with you tonight?" Viktor chuckles as he lifts his gaze, a smirk curling on his lips. "You're so needy. We only saw each other three days ago."

"Three days is too long," Yuuri tells him, pushing him back against the pillows. "Besides, you owe me a kiss." He leans across the bed one more time and grabs the medal resting beside his phone, putting it over his head so that the circle of gold rests in the center of his chest.

"I just kissed you," Viktor says, amused. Yuuri raises his eyebrows and taps the medal pointedly. Viktor's eyes crinkle as he tries not to laugh, but he obliges Yuuri and leans forward, kissing the medal, just as ardently as he kissed Yuuri minutes before.

Yuuri stares, a shiver running through him. His mind flashes back to when Viktor refused to kiss his silver medal at the Grand Prix Final, which still riles him a little if he thinks too hard on what happened. After working so hard these past months, as he trained tirelessly in St. Petersburg under Viktor's stern eye, Yuuri believes it was truly worth the stress, because he has Viktor's kiss now.

They could get married, according to Viktor's silly rule. (Yuuri likes to pretend that the five gold medals was just hyperbole. He knows better, but he still pretends.) Yuuri suspects Viktor is already thinking about it, if that glint in his eye is any indication, and he wants to put an end to that quickly, lest Viktor get any ideas about taunting Yuuri again.

"I want something else, too," Yuuri says.

Viktor raises an eyebrow as he lets the medal fall back to Yuuri's chest, smirking softly. "Oh? You need more than just a kiss? What would you like now, my dear?"

"I can think of a few things," Yuuri says as his voice drops, slowly undulating his hips against Viktor's in a rather meaningful way. Viktor laughs, sliding his hands up Yuuri's back slowly, then back down to tug on his shorts.

"Well, off with your clothes, then," Viktor murmurs. "It's not fair that only one of us is naked. After I traveled such a long way to be close to you again..."

Yuuri pauses, his movements slowing as he gazes down at Viktor. Those words sound too much like his thoughts of the past few days, of worrying about how far away Viktor was, about how close they could be. A smile touches his lips as he realizes that Viktor has been anxiously trying to cross the space between them as well. He was never truly alone, even though they were far apart.

"You were too far," Yuuri whispers, pushing Viktor's damp hair away from his face. He hates how much pain it caused Viktor to be apart from him. "I couldn't reach you. It hurt, Viktor."

Viktor's eyes go dark with anguish. "I am so sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn't have left you. Please, let me make it up to you, let me love you," he whispers, leaning up and catching Yuuri's lips, a soft apology. "Forgive me for being so tired..."

Yuuri feels a faint shudder in his chest, reminding him of all the crying he did two days ago. He wraps Viktor in his arms and breathes out all of his tension, smiling softly. "I'll take care of everything tonight, Viktor. Just lie back... let me take care of you."

"If you're sure," Viktor says slowly, and when Yuuri nods, he sinks against the pillows, settling his hands on Yuuri's hips. "You should be resting, though..."

"We can rest tomorrow. I _want_ you, Viktor," Yuuri says, his voice deepening with heat. "I need you, now. I don't want to wait anymore."

Viktor stares up at him, his hands tightening on Yuuri's hips, then nods abruptly. He slides his hands up Yuuri's back, pushing his shirt up in the same movement, and Yuuri obediently lifts his arms for Viktor to drag his shirt over his head, shifting so that he can pull off his shorts and underwear as well. When he settles on Viktor's legs again, they both sigh at the familiar feeling of skin against skin, nothing between them any longer. All that remains is the gold medal that brought him to Viktor.

Viktor draws Yuuri down into another kiss, this time more deeply, teasing his lips open and sliding his tongue into Yuuri's mouth. Yuuri groans as he tastes Viktor, distracted for a few long, heated moments, until he remembers vaguely what he wanted to do.

He breaks the kiss long enough to reach under the pillow, finding one of their bottles of lube and pulling it out. Viktor grins at him as Yuuri pops the lid and squeezes some onto his hand, ever pleased by Yuuri's forwardness. Now there is less than a foot of space between them, an easy distance to cross. Yuuri does just that, reaching out to run his slick fingers over Viktor's thickening cock.

Viktor groans, his head falling back against the pillow. Yuuri smiles as he watches a flush travel up Viktor's chest, broadening to his shoulders and neck. He tightens his grip, intent on touching Viktor the way he likes, ignoring his own needs for now. Viktor's hands tighten on his hips for a moment, then sweep back to cup his backside, pulling his lower cheeks apart.

"How you make me come undone," Viktor mutters, opening his eyes halfway. "Only you, Yuuri."

"Good," Yuuri purrs, Viktor's praise going straight to his head. He pauses to pour more lube into his hand, then lifts his hips and reaches behind him, sighing as he slips one slick finger into himself. Viktor holding him in such a way is very helpful, and he knows Viktor likes to watch him like this, likes to see how desperate Yuuri is to have him.

Yuuri has never loved anybody so much. He still can't quite call this _love_ , this feeling that defines him more thoroughly than any other. Viktor was the first person Yuuri has ever wanted to hold onto, and he may as well be the last.

Yuuri doesn't want to let him go. He doesn't think he can. Maybe it's wrong, or maybe it's exactly _right_ \-- they could be soulmates. Yuuri doesn't care about defining it. He just knows that it's true.

A million miles could separate them, and Yuuri would always want Viktor. Time, distance, space -- each part of an equation meant to maintain the status quo, to determine a place for everyone, and yet every time, Yuuri gravitates back to Viktor. It's been like this ever since he was young and looked up to someone who skated like a dream. His feelings haven't changed, except to deepen with new strength. Every day, it feels like Yuuri is falling in love all over again.

Viktor, who changed him. Viktor, who moved halfway across the world on a chance, just like Yuuri moved out of his protective shell so that he could meet Viktor where he is. Viktor, who has always been patient with Yuuri's mental weakness when he falls, who in the same moment will push him up to reach the stars.

Viktor, who stares at Yuuri like he hung those stars himself, his eyes bright with that undefined love.

Yuuri decides he cannot wait any longer.

"I love you," he whispers into the empty space that separates them, and the words travel where he does not go, reaching Viktor and making him light up. To see him glow like the sun, like the gold medal around Yuuri's neck -- it's all he ever wanted, to be able to see this without flinching.

"I love you," Viktor whispers, and just like every other time he hears them, the words take Yuuri by surprise. He never imagined holding onto this feeling. It never seemed possible, yet here he is.

As Yuuri reaches behind him to guide Viktor inside, he closes his eyes to the heat, zeroing in on the sensation of Viktor sliding into him, filling him. Every time, it feels like Viktor is becoming part of him, like he was meant to live inside Yuuri, turning the distance between them into nothing.

"Yuuri," Viktor groans, his grip going tight on Yuuri's hips, digging little bruises into his skin. His reverie faltering, Yuuri comes back to himself, opening his eyes and shuddering at the worshipful expression on Viktor's face.

The aches from skating and travel subside beneath the waves of pleasure from being with Viktor. Every sensual slide of his hips makes Yuuri gasp and Viktor groan. His back arches as he takes Viktor into him again, taking a moment to grind against him and crying out as Viktor pulses inside him, big enough that he might as well be touching Yuuri's throat. He slowly lifts his hips again, then pushes back down, a little harder now. He exhales over a moan, his gaze shifting to Viktor's face to watch his pleasure.

Viktor stares at him like he cannot believe that Yuuri has come to him. Like Yuuri is an angel visiting in the night, bestowing Viktor with the blessing of his body. The absolute devotion on Viktor's face makes Yuuri's heart soar with love.

"How does it feel?" Yuuri whispers.

"Like I'm dreaming." Viktor gazes down at the places where their skin connects, slowly lifting Yuuri's hips, then watching him slide down again, taking all of Viktor's considerable length. Yuuri lets out a little moan as Viktor throbs inside him. "Like I've entered heaven, and there is only you. That is the only heaven I will accept."

"Not _katsudon_?" Yuuri mutters, flushing when Viktor grins at him.

"Both kinds," Viktor purrs, and Yuuri has to kiss him for that. The medal lands heavily on Viktor's chest, but neither of them pay it any mind, as Yuuri continues to move, continues to pull Viktor deeper into him, Viktor's hands sliding up to grip his shoulders as they kiss.

Just like Yuuri's hips, moving slowly but firmly, their kiss is unhurried, reflecting their exhaustion as well as their relief. Yuuri's anxiety is but a memory now; he doesn't need to worry anymore, because Viktor is here now. The pain of their separation lingers, but each time Viktor presses into that spot inside him, making Yuuri grow breathless and dizzy, the pain lessens a little more.

"I missed you, Viktor. I missed you..."

Viktor takes in a ragged breath, then wraps his arms around Yuuri and buries his face in his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Yuuri. I left you alone when you needed me. It was hard for you... I know it was, even though you wouldn't say so. Forgive me, my love. I'm sorry..."

Yuuri slows a little as Viktor's pleading voice breaks through his haze of love and desire. He smiles softly and turns his head to kiss Viktor's ear, his voice barely a whisper, yet just enough for Viktor to hear.

"I always forgive you, Viktor."

There is no _as long as._ He doesn't need to put a condition on their love. Viktor has always put Yuuri first, and he will continue to put Yuuri before any other person or need in his life, even himself, unless Yuuri forces the issue. Even if Viktor has to leave him again in the morning, he will always come back to Yuuri's arms, and that matters more than the space separating them.

Viktor kisses him again, his hips lifting in a hard thrust, and Yuuri cries out as Viktor hits his prostate. He starts to push himself up, only for Viktor to grab him by the waist and roll them over, pushing even deeper as he lands on top of Yuuri. The new angle makes Yuuri sob, clutching at Viktor's back, as Viktor bows his head and drives into him.

"Viktor!"

Viktor replies not in words, but by pressing his lips to Yuuri's neck, kissing his skin as he moves faster. The slow, easy lovemaking is gone, replaced with need by Viktor's absolution. Yuuri can only hold on as Viktor takes him, feeling tears come to his eyes from the force of Viktor's love. The gold medal is heavy on his chest, and it should be choking him, but Yuuri only feels free. 

He thinks he sees the stars when he comes.

Yuuri comes back to himself in Viktor's arms, listening to the soft sound of his heartbeat. Viktor has cleaned them both up and moved the medal to the nightstand, and the bathroom light has been turned off, leaving them in darkness. The curtains are pulled back, showing off the twinkling sky, and Yuuri watches the stars for a little while.

The stars are far away, just as Viktor was once to him. A hope, little more than a dream to a young boy who wanted something greater than himself. Yuuri has never let go since the first time he saw Viktor Nikiforov and thought, _I want to skate with him._

The stars may be far away, but Viktor came to him. Viktor believes in his strength -- and Yuuri believes in Viktor. In the dark, Yuuri can hear their hearts beating in sync, no more space between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! (*´♡`*)


End file.
